Cirlces
by Shadow Storyteller
Summary: Madness is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. AU.


**Disclaimer: ****I'll bet living in a nudist colony takes all the fun out of Halloween.**

Madness is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. It's that horrible voice that whispers in your mind, 'One more time. Just one more time and it'll be the way you want.' Common sense screams no, but every stubborn fiber in you screams back with the voice, 'One more time.' Even when you're crushed into dust when it isn't different and you're back at square one, that little voice comes back in the tiny hours of the morning to whisper, 'It'll be different now. Try again.'

Axel has been mad since he was thirteen. He's still mad six long years later. Or are they short? It's hard to tell when you do the same thing day after day. The only things that ever change are the people in class and the temperature outside. Few faces stay the same; even fewer bother to talk to him.

Axel isn't depressing or Goth or anything attention grabbing like that despite his madness. He's a cheerful joker who gets along with everyone but doesn't have many friends. His gravity-resistant hair that looks ready to burst into flame at anytime and his crazy upside down teardrops do attract attention at first, but it soon just sinks into the category of normal. He remains the kid everyone keeps at the back of their minds all through school. Even in college, no one bothers to look twice at him as he almost sprints down the sidewalk as soon as class lets out in the afternoon, slinging his bag carelessly on his back. Everyone figures he's burning things or pranking someone and doesn't want to be caught in the flames.

They couldn't be more off. Not that they'd believe what he does anyway.

+…+

"The train is approaching platform 4. Please stay between the yellow lines," announces the polite voice on the intercom, static underlining the announcement. People shift around, grabbing bags and checking for children who wandered too far in preparation. Most are getting on here. Only a few don't move. Only a single person, Axel, runs towards the train, stumbling through the crowd and throwing out _sorry_'s and _excuse me_'s as he pushes past people.

Clear on the other side of the walkway from Axel, a girl heading home studies the boy next to her, biting her lip nervously. His face isn't bad- cute in the boyish kind of way- but his hair is demands attention. Blond locks fly up every which way with no rhyme or reason at all, the pure randomness making it hard to believe he styled it that way. She looks closer, but there's no gel. It's natural!

What really catches her attention is the general air of depression he gives off. He doesn't look poor or mistreated. His clothes, however, do infer he grabbed the first thing his hands came into contact with that morning whether they were fresh or not. No, it's the way his back is curved as if the weight of the world is on his back, his pale skin color giving off a sense of helplessness, and the lack of light in his otherwise pretty blue eyes that are locked on the tracks right before him, unblinking.

She tenderly reaches out her hand to snap him out of whatever thoughts he's in, but a sudden chill runs up and down her skin. She pulls away, confused at the sense of foreboding that itches in her brain. Spooked, she shifts away from the boy and focuses on the incoming train.

"Please wait until the train comes to a complete stop and exit in an orderly fashion," the voice says, a slight snap to the warning like they're used to people disobeying.

Axel keeps pushing his way through people, glancing repeatedly back at the clock up on the wall. He almost trips over a little kid, but manages to sidestep in time, nearly spraining his ankle in the process.

The teen with bed head hair looks at the train's headlights, a small smile forming as he steps forward closer to the tracks. As usual, no one notices how easy it'd be for him to walk out on the tracks. Just one step and he's road kill. Wouldn't that be nice? He takes another step across the yellow warning line, muscles tensing in anticipation-

"Hey!" The boy starts in surprise as Axel's hand lightly brushes his shoulder, breaking his concentration and successfully stopping him. His body relaxes. He turns away from the tracks and looks up at the red head expectantly through his lashes, blue eyes dead.

Axel offers a smile. Roxas doesn't return it. "I see," he sighs, letting the smile drop off his face like rain. "I swear, one day passes and you already forget." Axel's voice holds no anger or surprise, but weary acceptance.

The train flies by, the wind messing up both their hair with it's speed. Roxas glares at Axel, clearly ticked he was interrupted. "Can I help you?" he asks curtly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Roxas," Axel starts. He cuts off as people shove passed him to get on the train. "Let's move out of the way." He points to a bench and starts forging through the crowd again, knowing the other will follow.

"Rox…as? Roxas?" the teen musses, testing the name in his mouth. It feels right. "Roxas," he agrees, slipping the name on like a snug glove. His blue eyes light up a bit at the name, and his step seems to have a spring to it that it didn't have just a minute ago. 'Axel…that's _his_ name!' Roxas realizes, wondering what random section of his brain he plucked that from. As far as he can remember, he doesn't know him.

Axel waves him over from where he's lounging on the bench. Roxas jogs over, free from the crowd, and plops down next to him. They sit in silence, Axel watching the people board while Roxas watches him. A few people cast them curious glances, but it's nothing more than the usual look anyone with their hair would get. The large clock tower in town rings disorientingly loud four times.

Axel hums an aimless tune under his breath as he rises off the bench, stretching his arms high enough to make Roxas feel like a midget. He looks questioningly up at Axel, unsure of what to say. Hadn't _he_ approached _Roxas_? When was he going to talk?

Roxas' jaw almost drops in astonishment when the red head abruptly turns towards the exit of the station and walks away without a word. Roxas reaches out his hand to stop him before thinking better of it and lets it fall to his side. Axel glances back, jerking his head for Roxas to follow. The teen wavers for a moment before shoving his hands in his pockets and following Axel curiously, resolving to stay a safe distance away. He knows he has a cell phone in his pocket, and he has full confidence in his speed to run. Roxas knows for a fact Axel can't hurt him even if he tries.

Sunlight almost blinds both the boys as they walk out of the shade, but Axel doesn't wait for their sight to adjust. He starts off to the right, knowing the path home like the back of his hand. Roxas, however, blinks furiously and shades his eyes with his arm. He panics when he doesn't see Axel, but relaxes when he spots the unmistakable hair down the sidewalk. Roxas dashes after Axel, going out of his way to avoid knocking into others headed towards the trains.

"Wait!" he calls. Axel doesn't even look back at him, but he decreases the size of his steps so Roxas can catch up. "Where are…we going?" Roxas asks, panting a little from the run.

Axel gives him an affectionate smile, hand twitching up from his side like he's going to muse Roxas' hair. "Relax," he drawls, turning his awkward hand motion into the smooth move of placing both arms behind his head. "You trust me, right?"

Once he thinks on the words, Roxas realizes he's right. He trusts Axel completely. 'Do I really not know him?' Roxas wonders, nodding.

"Then relax!" Axel finishes, throwing his hands in the air. "We'll be there in a few minutes. Then you can get out of those dirty clothes." Green eyes look Roxas up and down disapprovingly. The teen looks down at himself: black tee, baggy black jeans, black sneakers, and a long black coat way too big for him. All of his clothes have dust and fuzz visible on them, making Roxas look disheveled by the magnitude of the amount on him.

'It could be worse,' he decides. 'It's not like there's rips and tears all through my clothes.' Roxas looks at Axel's lean body and snorts. "I doubt any of your clothes will fit me."

Axel barks out a laugh, starling Roxas and a sleeping dog in the yard they're passing. It glares half-heartedly at him, debating whether it's worth the effort to bite him before resuming its nap. "Well see," he says to Roxas, not noticing how close he came to a trip to the hospital for stitches. "Maybe some things from first grade'll fit," he muses out loud.

"I'm not that short!" Roxas retorts sharply, gritting his teeth. "We can't all be freakishly tall like you! Stupid genetics…" he mutters, kicking a stone on the path. Axel rolls his eyes. They fall silent.

Roxas darts glances at the red head beside him, narrowing his eyes like he can hone in on what was so familiar about him. Roxas knows he hasn't met Axel before this.

Come to think of it, he can't really recall much of anything. Not that it bothers him. Roxas completely trusts his subconscious to tell him where to go and who to trust. Nothing's said to run from Axel, so he doesn't.

"So," Axel starts, taking out his phone to check the time, "what'cha do today? Rob a bank? Eat a cow? Win a Major League Baseball game?" He frowns and slips the device back in his pocket, increasing his pace. Roxas has to stride to keep up but works his hardest to make it look natural. It ends up making him look like he's trying to get rid of a wedgie.

"Real attractive," Axel laughs.

"Shut up," Roxas grumbles, running to catch up. "If you don't like it, slow down."

The red head sighs and switches to a more contained pace while Roxas' walk becomes more loping than awkward. "What _did_ you do today?" The teen frowns at Axel's eager expression, but starts list off the mundane activities.

"Let's see…" Roxas stars into space, thinking. "Went to school, took a test, failed a math test, ate a hamburger, found out I'm failing science, and went to catch the train," he rattles off, no real interest in what he's saying. In fact, he feels like it happens again and again every day.

'Yeah, every day's the same.' Roxas glances at the crazy, unforgettable red hair. 'I walk home with him everyday after school, and he always teases me about my clothes,' he realizes. Roxas almost smacks himself in the head. 'How do I forget _him_?'

Axel nods, unaware of how deep in thought Roxas is in, but it's seems more for Roxas' benefit than his anyway. His shoulders relax from their previously taunt position, but they have a new weary curve that wasn't there before. Anyone not paying close attention wouldn't notice the emotion hidden under the gesture. Roxas doesn't, but Axel feels like he _should_. Feels like Roxas is supposed to be able to pick up on the small things like an old friend would. Feels like he's been jaded.

But feelings are irrelevant in the course of events that take place in reality. The world will kick you down again and again whether you're fine with it or not. All you can do is respond.

"So no cash?" Axel asks pitifully.

"No cash." Roxas turns his pockets inside out to show him. All that falls out is lint not even big enough to be mistaken for a dime. "Why do you need it anyway?"

Axel gives him a crooked smile, his eyes looking across the street where a young girl laughs happily in the sprinkler, her mom watching with a content smile. "No reason. It's just a question." His eyes linger on her before moving lazily back to Roxas. "Can't I inquire the finical situation of a good acquaintance?" he asks smartly, making sure to enunciate his words as if Roxas is a five year old.

The teen doesn't let it faze him. He sarcastically applauds, making each clap short with a long stretch of silence in between each one. "Congrats. It seems you've learned some big words above you third grade vocabulary. Did someone finally pick up a book?"

Axel rolls his eyes and slings his bag off. He quickly unzips it, cursing under his breath when the zipper gets caught half way up the side. He slows down to a pace Roxas can keep up with as he grapples with the zipper, nearly punching himself in the face when it finally gets loose. Roxas laughs at him. A little disgruntled, he finally pulls out a book, proudly waving it in Roxas' face at a fast enough pace that he can't see the title. "See? I read."

The teen makes a grab at the book before Axel can react. The red head is so startled he drops the book, give Roxas a clear view of the title. "'Ghost and Why They Stay with the Living?'" he questions, amusement obvious in his voice. Roxas gives Axel a once over as the man flushes, bending over to conceal the book. "I wouldn't think you'd be into ghosts."

"What can I say?" Axel shrugs, slipping the book back in his bag. "I see dead people."

Roxas rolls his eyes. "Uhuh. Sure." He waves a hand at the almost empty space around them. A few high schoolers occasionally pass, but the district Axel's lead Roxas in doesn't have many shops that appeal to most people. "Where is there a dead person? Is there one on my head?"

"They're close than you'd think," Axel replies cryptically, an ironic note hidden in his voice Roxas doesn't miss. He flicks his eyes up above Roxas's head. The teen looks up, cautiously smacking the air above his head. Axel starts humming the Twilight Zone theme song.

"Quit it!" Roxas snaps. "Are we there yet?" He looks around the down-trodden district, noting how few cars there are parked, let alone _on_, the road. No one in the right mid would be on the road anyway: it's full of potholes impossible to go around. The buildings themselves aren't ugly or crumbling, but they all have an old feel that makes anyone have a permanent sense of nostalgia their whole stay. Apartments make up most of the buildings, andthe few houses all have people under sixty living there. Basically, the perfect place for poor college students like Axel or partying students that don't care who they piss off like the mullet guy happily playing his sitar loudly out on his front steps.

"Right up the street," Axel soothes, waving at Mullet Guy.

"Hey Axel! Roxas!" He briefly stops his impressive music to wave back before launching right back into a flurry of fingers and chords.

Roxas studies the man. "Who's that?" he asks, pointing bluntly. 'How does he know me?' he adds mentally.

"Demyx." Axel grabs Roxas' wrist loosely and moves it to point at a building diagonal from Demyx. "That's where we're going. And put your finger down: it's not nice to point."

Roxas rolls his eyes but does as Axel says. "Gee, Mom," he shoots back sarcastically, "I'll try to be nicer. In fact, I think I can stat now," he admits, pointing at Axel. "Woops," Roxas says nonchalantly at his finger. "Didn't mean to do that. Just can't control myself."

"You really are a smart ass, aren't you?" Axel readjusts his bag on his back, muttering, "And to think I looked up to you. That's just scary."

Roxas, who was only half paying attention as he listened to Demyx's playing, looks at Axel with a confused expression. "Huh? Did you say something?"

"Nothing important." Axel gives him a tight smile. "Let's just go in."

Roxas looks up at the eight-story apartment, eyeing a windowpane noticeably sinking down. "That's your room, right? Number 88?" He smiles at Axel. "Isn't that from when you tried to cook popcorn in a pan without your mom? You ran over to the window and put the smoking pot on the pan." He laughs, remembering the red head's startled look when he saw the melted, drooping plastic.

Roxas looks up at the taller, older Axel, his laugh fading somewhat. He distinctly remembers Axel's face having less angles, lacking of tattoos, and him being shorter than Roxas when it happened, but that's not possible. No one can suddenly grow up that fast, and Roxas remembers being sixteen, the same age as now, when it happened.

Axel nods. "Oh, I remember. No TV for a week, and I wasn't allowed to go see that new Disney movie that came out." There's a fondness in his voice that doesn't match the tightness around his mouth. "Since you know where, why don't you lead the way?" Axel stands aside and overdramatically ushers Roxas in. Roxas doesn't bother to play along and trudges in. "Killjoy."

'This place hasn't changed,' Roxas finds himself thinking as he walks in. 'Same old manager, same cracks in the wall, same chipped but clean tile.' The nostalgia that hits him takes him by surprise even though he knows he was here yesterday. He doesn't remember clearly what he did, but he knows he's been here almost every day since… 'Since when?'

"Forget?" Axel asks from behind him.

Roxas rounds on him, the sudden anger burning in his expression almost making Axel visibly recoil. "No, I didn't forget!" He stalks forward, navigating around the tiles with a skill only practice could give him. "I've come here almost everyday. How could I forget something so important?" Roxas starts up the stairs, not looking back at Axel.

"You'd be surprised what people will forget, Roxas," Axel says ruefully, following at a much slower pace.

The old manager gives him a glare. "What's wrong with that kid? You bring him in everyday, but he forgets about the closed stairwell every time! Honestly," he scowls, rubbing his bald scalp in wonder, "how you kids can graduate now a days beats me." He gives a dry chuckle when a disgruntled Roxas comes back down to take the second, non-broken stairs. "Poor kid looks like he hasn't aged a day. Must be hard to be twenty-something and look sixteen."

Axel doesn't respond, hands clenching at his sides as he moves passed. "Twenty-four."

"Come on, Axel!" Roxas calls down the stairs. He peers down the deserted hallway, bouncing slightly, impatience making him on edge. His eyes kind of tickle, like they're trying to remember something important about what they're looking at. A feeling of finality keep gnawing at Roxas, urging him on.

"Little jumpy there?"

Roxas scowls at Axel and forces himself to still. "No. Let's go." He follows the red head to the door, letting Axel go first since he has the key. Roxas frowns at the deep scratch in the door, the faint recollection of an drunk teenage Axel coming to mind. 'The time after he got those tattoos,' Roxas remembers, waiting as Axel struggles with the lock. 'But I was still sixteen. Am I just confusing times and days? That must be it. I've always had a bad sense of time anyway.' He follows Axel, who has finally gotten the door open, in and pushes away the sense of foreboding.

The room, on a whole, is just as Roxas remembers, but he knows there's some small change he's missing. The carpets the same stained white. The walls are still bare and faded. A couch sits in the corner of the room with the built-in bed out. The TV's on like always, and the kitchen's messy from yesterdays, the day before's, and the day before that's dinner. So what is it?

'His mother's sleeping bag is gone,' Roxas notices. 'Where…Oh!' He almost slaps himself as he remembers. 'She's dead. How long has it been?' He stares at Axel. 'I _know_ Axel was younger, but I'm certain I was sixteen. Why is my sense of time so bad? It's never been _this_ off!'

Roxas moves farther in, looking at a drawer that seems shorter. It takes a moment, but he sees that the legs are bolted to the ground. Looking around, he sees all the furniture is bolted, and there are no fragile things around the house.

Axel eyes him, waiting for him to comment on the changes or messiness. He's not really surprised when Roxas nonchalantly moves to his pullout bed and flops down on it, but he can tell the teen is curious by the questioning glance he sends Axel's way before turning his attention to the TV. The red head moves into the kitchen, not pausing as he throws his bag aimlessly towards the bed. It hits the side dully and flops to the floor. "What movie do you want to watch?" Axel asks from the fridge.

"Don't you have homework?" Roxas asks, shooting a look at the fallen bag before reaching forward from the end of the bed to change the channel. Axel lost (read burned) the remote years ago.

Axel shrugs as he returns with half a sub and Coke in his hands, flopping down on the bed. "I'll do it later," he promises, unwrapping the sandwich haphazardly. Crumbs fall all over the sheets, but he doesn't care as he chomps happily on his food. "Go ahead and pick a movie. It's your turn."

"You're a horrible influence. Aren't I supposed to look up to you?" Roxas mutters, getting up to look at the pile of movies Axel has. He doesn't notice the small flinch the man gives.

Axel forces a laugh, downing the chunk of sandwich in his mouth with a swing of Coke. "You don't even have your book bag," he points out. "You had no plans to do your homework anyway."

Roxas' eyebrows knit together. "I wasn't going to have time," he recalls, trying to remember exactly what he was going to do after school. 'I was at the train station…was I going somewhere?' He grabs some random movie and holds it up to change the subject. "How about this?"

Axel leans back, cocking an eyebrow at the dark, corny cover of the movie. "Don't you hate cheap horror films?"

Roxas shrugs. He moves back to sit on the bed with Axel, tossing the movie to him. "I'm just in a mood for something different," he lies.

Axel doesn't call him on it, and instead puts down his sub and crawls over to the TV with the movie. Roxas takes advantage of his movement and flops down on the spot Axel was in. 'Oh! It's nice and warm now…comfy.'

The red head turns around after putting the movie in. He frowns when he catches sight of Roxas. The teen shoots Axel a grin and makes a show of snuggling into his spot. Axel crawls back over and grabs a pillow out from under Roxas' head easily, making the teen fall back. He flops down beside the scowling Roxas and turns his attention to the screen.

+...+

"I thought you didn't believe in ghost," Axel suddenly says when Roxas jumps a foot in the air at one of the few actual scary parts of the whole film. He gets a questioning look. "Well, why be scared of something you don't believe in," Axel elaborates.

Roxas looks back at the screen, crossing his arms. "It's a horror movie. I'm supposed to be scared. It doesn't matter if I believe in what it shows or not. If a bloody face suddenly pops out from nowhere right in front of me, I'm going to scream."

"So if I ghost appeared in front of you," Axel starts.

"They don't exists," Roxas interrupts.

Axel smirks, crumpling the paper his sandwich was in with his fist. "Care to explain why you swatted at the space above your head when I said I could see dead people? Hmm?" he presses, smirking in victory.

"Shut up," Roxas scowls. Axel laughs, positioning the wad of paper in his hands like he's shooting a basketball. He throws it towards the garbage can in the kitchen and misses by a long shot. "Fail."

"A ghost made it move," Axel teases. "Did you see it, Mr. Skeptic?" Roxas doesn't even reply, forcing himself to focus on the movie. "Fine then."

They both fall silent, and actually watch the movie with some interest when a plot comes into play. They watch the reasonably good-looking lead search for the process to send the spirit to the afterlife or hell or wherever it is in this movie while the secondary characters all die one by one. They never really specifically say where the spirit is going to, which bothers both males.

Roxas has no idea why he cares, but the sense of empathy for the character creeps him out. Not only that, but scenes from the day keep coming back to him, beating him with facts. One boy tripped him purposely in the hall, causing him to smack his face into a locker. His homework was thrown in a sink. He failed a test. The teachers told him there was a possibility he might flunk. Sora wasn't there when he got home, and he heard Riku and Kairi, the people Sora's attached to at the hip, ran away.

He remembers exactly why he was at the train station, and that he did exactly what he intended to do. He remembers it was one of the handful of days he didn't go to the eleven-year-old Axel's house after school.

Axel notices Roxas' shift in mood, the paleness starting to overtake him, and the hollow look in his eye. 'It's coming,' he warns himself mentally, his whole body turning tease. 'This is earlier than usual. It must be the movie.' He moves covertly closer to the side of the bed, ready to leap away at the first sign of danger.

A slight breeze starts to pick up around Roxas, making the sheets on the bed flutter up. Axel jumps up and moves a safe distance from his friend, looking around for anything that could fly away once the wind got stronger. 'I should've gotten them all out of the house.'

"Why do you keep coming back?" Roxas asks Axel quietly. He hands grab fistfuls of the sheets to keep him from lashing out, but the wind turns harsher, swirling around him. "I'm ready to leave, so why won't you let me go?"

Axel doesn't answer.

"I asked you why, damn it!" Roxas yells, whipping his head up. He beats his hands down on the bed, glaring daggers at Axel. "Is this your idea of a joke, hm?" Wind pushes against Axel, but he doesn't move or react. "Is this just for kicks? Hate me that much?"

Axel flinches, but Roxas doesn't know whether it's from the second burst of wind that hits him or his words that gets the reaction.

"Do you?" the teen pushes, getting up from the bed. Now he gets why everything is bolted down. "Answer me!" he screams.

"…I don't know," Axel admits, not meeting his eyes. "I just do."

Shock flickers on Roxas' face before turning to cold fury. The temperature in the room plummets. "How much longer do you think I'll last, Axel?" he questions icily. "Do you even know if I even get a choice anymore?"

"You don't know either!" Axel snaps, eyes flashing. He stumbles away from the wind, shivering for a moment. He straightens up and looks hard at Roxas ,setting his jaw determinately. "Don't play the victim! You stayed behind in the first place! Two years," he holds up to fingers, "you stay, scared of what happens. Two goddamn years you stick around me and basically integrate yourself in my life. You preach to me all the horrible stuff that could happen to you, then suddenly decide to leave me behind!"

"I'm _dead_, Axel!" Roxas shoots back. "I can't just stay here-"

"Why not?" Axel demands. "You seemed to have no problem when I was eleven. I turn thirteen, Mom dies, and you suddenly get a goddamn epiphany and decide to leave me alone!"

"And you run off to stop me!" Roxas yells. "Why won't you let me go?"

"Why did you stay for two years?" Axel shoots back.

Both glare at each other with matching expressions of anger, Axel breathing heavily and clenching his fists at his side. His hair whips around wildly from Roxas' winds, yet the teen doesn't seem to be affected by it. They stand just like that for what feels to be forever, not flinching or moving at all. Axel is shivering, but makes no action to warm up.

The moment is broken as Axel's bag flies at him, forcing him to break eye contact and leap to the side. The bag hits the drawer's leg, snapping it in half. Roxas looks away, reeling his winds back in. "Go to hell, Axel," he says weakly.

The red head scowls. "Save a spot for me, since you're so persistent to go there." He doesn't miss the look of hurt he gets before Roxas starts to disappear but ignores it.

"I hate you." Axel pretends he doesn't hear and lets the ghost disappear without another word. He scoops up his bag from where it's fallen and throws it on his bed with more force than necessary. He stalks over to his bed and pulls out his English textbook.

He opens his notebook to a clean page and stares at it, tapping his pencil against it at a rapid pace. "Ass hole," he mutters, letting his head fall onto the page. "Why can't you just stay, or at least forgive me before you leave?"

The truth is that their previous conversation follows that pattern every day, always, _always_ ending in an 'I hate you' from Roxas. Axel's come to expect it, but it still hurts every time he hears it. Why can't Roxas understand that he needs him?

Axel frowns and rolls over on his back, staring at a large crack in the wall. Yes, he needs Roxas, but he's not sure in what way. The only thing he's sure of is Roxas wants to leave, and he's desperate not to let the boy go. After all, who _wants_ the kid they've known more than half their life to suddenly leave? He was ready to let him go when he was eleven, but after two years of Roxas being his only friend, he couldn't handle him leaving. If there was anyone to point the blame at, it was Roxas.

He'd just appeared to him the night Axel heard about his death. Roxas had thrown himself in the way of the train. Axel had known the sixteen year-old's life was no picnic, but he'd always been so happy around Axel. He'd never thought the nice boy who always had time to play would do that.

It was at the time they usually hung out that Roxas suddenly materialized soundlessly next to Axel on the couch. Axel had been scared at first, but helistened as his friend explained he was scared of the afterlife and had stayed behind. Roxas had heard terrible things about death and people that died the way he did, and he told Axel every single bad thing that could be waiting. Axel, fearful for his friend, insisted he stay with him.

Two years passed with Roxas living in Axel's apartment, hiding from his mother for fear of giving her a heart attack. It didn't matter. She died a month after Axel's thirteenth birthday of a stroke.

Axel still doesn't know what made Roxas change his mind, but he announced it was time to move on and left for the train station. Of course Axel tried to stop him. After all, he knew where Roxas had to go to get to his judgment and when he had to do it. If a soul didn't go to judgment and lingered around with the living but changed its mind later, all it had to do was go back to the place of its death and be in the same spot at the same time.

Axel had dashed to the train station, mind racing on how to make Roxas stop. It wasn't like he could touch him. He pushed through the crowd to where he hoped the ghost would be, unable to come up with a good plan in his panic. In the end, he tried to push Roxas away from the tracks, but only succeeded in falling though him and skinning his knee. Roxas, who was so shocked, missed his opportunity.

"What's wrong with you?" the livid Roxas had screamed, watching in fury as the train ran right by. Axel had trembled, babbling about how he didn't want to be alone. The ghost didn't want to hear it and left the station in a huff, leaving Axel to get run over by the crowd.

Axel was worried when his friend didn't come back that night, and, the next morning, went to the station to check for him. He could find no sight of Roxas. Disheartened, he went to school and was barely able to focus. He was reprimanded by his teachers constantly that day and barely managed to stay out of detention.

After wandering around aimlessly, Axel ended up back at the station. He half-heartedly looked for Roxas, only to breath in relief when he saw his friend's crazy hair in the crowd of people. He ran over, smiling widely, and excitedly yelled, "Roxas!"

Roxas didn't respond. He didn't even flinch at his name. Axel felt a sinking in his gut. "Roxas?" he asked again. "_Roxas_?" He moved to stand in front of him and waved his hands in front of Roxas' face. His blood ran cold when he saw the blank look in the teen's eye. "Roxas!" he yelled, panicked.

The ghost's eyes fluttered, and awareness came back. "Who are you?" he asked Axel.

Axel had laughed, thinking it was all a joke. "Axel, Roxas." He taps his finger to his temple. "Got it memorized?" he teases, repeating the same thing he'd told Roxas when they met.

Roxas' eyebrows had knitted together. "Roxas?" he questioned. "I'm…Roxas, right?"

Axel's gut sank with his smile when he finally understood the ghost was serious. Not knowing what else to do, he led Roxas home. It was a hard task since he was unable to lead him physically and Roxas didn't really trust him, but since Roxas' memories seemed to come back the longer he was with Axel, he managed to get him home.

The ghost recalled everything after three hours with Axel. He broke into the same rage as the day before, screaming at the close to tears teen. And just like the day before, he left and didn't come home. Axel went back the next day, only to have the same thing repeat.

'It's a giant loop,' Axel thinks dully, looking out the window at the now half-mast sun. 'I get him away from the train, he gets mad and leaves, he doesn't come back. Repeat. If only he could forgive me and come back, this whole cycle could break.'

Axel manages to get his homework done, though he's sure most of it is wrong thanks to the heavy exhaustion he feels. He gives the TV a distasteful look before turning it off, and, not knowing what else to do, climbs under his sheets and tries to go to bed.

'It's okay," his mind whispers as he falls asleep. 'I'm sure it'll be different tomorrow. One more time,' it insists. 'Just one more time and it'll be the way you want.'

'One more time. Try again.'

+…+

"The train is approaching platform 4. Please stay between the yellow lines," announces the polite voice on the intercom, static underlining the announcement. People shift around, grabbing bags and checking for children who wandered too far in preparation. Most are getting on here. Only a few don't move. Only a single person, Axel, runs towards the train, stumbling through the crowd and throwing out _sorry_'s and _excuse me_'s as he pushes past people.

* * *

**For a contest on deviantart. The theme was trains and supernatural. So...what'cha think? Please review!**

**EDIT on 8-28-12: This got second!  
**


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